


A Revelation In Due Time

by davefoley



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode: s05e18 Hanky Panky, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Porn, Self-Hatred, Sexual Fantasy, Unrequited Love, it's about the INTRICATE RITUALS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 18:45:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davefoley/pseuds/davefoley
Summary: What had happened between BJ and Donovan was strictly confidential, but it was only an embrace and a kiss at most — though it still gripped at his unbridled sense of guilt like a claw. The rest of the night was spent on her cot shooting the breeze and cracking jokes until the both of them passed out like two kids at a sleepover. Whatever Hawkeye expected, BJ couldn’t deliver; even if he could.BJ guesses that he just wanted to have a night at the Swamp with just him and Hawkeye alone. He inexplicably enjoys his company like that.





	A Revelation In Due Time

**Author's Note:**

> many words: almost a bit of a bj character study since "hanky panky" is not only about bj falling in love outside of his marriage, but all the sort of complexities he also deals with beyond that, which i love so much about him. of course i had to marry this with hunnihawk and porn.
> 
> few words: preferable you watch the episode itself as i've omitted real dialogue from scenes of the episode for FLAVOUR
> 
> two words: intricate rituals
> 
> four words: i hope you enjoy

“Start from the beginning and tell me all about it,” Hawkeye says, leaning towards BJ as if he was crazy enough to talk about his presumed sexual escapades — something that didn’t happen at all — in the mess hall of all places.

“Later Hawkeye,” and yet BJ finds himself unable to stop himself from saying it. Before he can begin to question why he chose to say that, Nurse Donovan walks over and takes a seat across from him.

“Morning,” Donovan says.

“Good morning,” BJ responds.

What had happened between BJ and Donovan was strictly confidential, but it was only an embrace and a kiss at most — though it still gripped at his unbridled sense of guilt like a claw. The rest of the night was spent on her cot shooting the breeze and cracking jokes until the both of them passed out like two kids at a sleepover. Whatever Hawkeye expected, BJ couldn’t deliver; even if he could.

BJ guesses that he just wanted to have a night at the Swamp with just him and Hawkeye alone. He inexplicably enjoys his company like that.

 

——

 

“Yes, I know, and I’m still afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of you. Because you’re right here and you’re so attractive and so close.”

“And so vulnerable.” BJ can only nod as Donovan tries, desperately as she can in her state, to comprehend BJ’s coolness following their innocent private meetup. “You don’t trust yourself,” she realizes.

BJ looks on and by Donovan’s expression, her words, he can understand the peculiarity of it. He cruelly accepts himself as some lascivious serial adulterer on account of his debilitating guilt, because he feels almost selfishly that he’s the only one who can give Donovan what she needs. And in giving her what she needs he fears he’ll feel an entitlement to her. It becomes less of a cheating on Peg matter at that point and more of an  _ I’m a despicable person _ kind of matter.

But there’s no need to punish himself so intensely — as Donovan said, he was only being kind and considerate. So BJ relaxes a little bit. But the complications, the wrestling of it all!

“Does that make it easier?” Donovan asks.

“Yes, and no,” BJ answers, thinking about how pathetic he is. If people like Donovan or Margaret, Potter or Frank, Klinger... Hawkeye, and insignificant him, were all fighting a losing game of trying to be more than a mere human being, he counts himself out — he’s always been less of one.

“Let’s go back to work, friend.” he says, walking back with Donovan to Post Op.

 

——

 

“You know Beej,” Hawkeye murmurs from behind one of his favourite copies of Nudist Monthly — the wine edition. “You never told me what happened that night you and Donovan were...” He looks over to BJ with an indecent waggle of his brows.

BJ scoffs. “Nothing happened that night, Hawk.” He confesses, lying back down on his cot after having too much trouble with one particular stitch in his scarf. Hawkeye doesn’t seem to accept the answer.

“Then what was— what was with the ‘Later, Hawkeye’—” Hawkeye makes a pretty good impression of BJ then. “and the— the whole writing Peg about cheating and—” Right. BJ had promised Hawkeye that he would tell him all the sweaty hot details. He doesn’t dwell on how depraved a man must be to ask his friend to indulge him after they had a heart-to-heart some time ago about infidelity and the secrets to a happy marriage, whatever they were.

“Okay,” BJ says with a roll of his eyes but can’t stop himself from feeling elated when he sees Hawkeye turn to him with glee, his magazine down and now his attention is raptly on BJ. “You got me Hawk.”

“The night me and Donovan met up in her tent, it was about helping her with marital problems at first.” begins BJ, his mind in the meanwhile attempting to spin an arousing enough tale about man and woman in a hot steamy embrace. Hawkeye giggles and prepares himself as if he was a kid listening to a bedtime story. “Her husband had given her a Dear Jane letter, and she was devastated.” The face of Carrie as she blips up in BJ’s head is a bit of a sour thing no matter what, he notes, even after the make-good and the mutual declaration of friendship a week ago. He decides to try to come up with some other anonymous woman to commit hanky panky with.

“Understandably so,” Hawkeye says, his grin, feline-like, at its fullest. “A woman with blonde, soft hair like that? Cheekbones like apples? Ears like the most delicate conch shell? Eyes like—”

“Stop stop stop,” BJ laughs, but the vision of how this deceitful fantasy is playing out starts to bring in Carrie again and BJ forces it back into a mental box. “I’m the one who played doctor with her.”

She had transferred anyway, after everything. Said that even though she was perfectly okay working alongside BJ, she thought BJ wasn’t — would never be. After having gotten to know each other, it was funny. Whatever attraction she was presuming he had, whatever attraction he assumed he had that wasn’t upset by some total inferiority complex, it felt like the last thing she was thumbing her nose to.

It seemed that Carrie in her strength chose to leave because she knew something about BJ he didn’t like to dwell on often, and left while the dam still quivered with its strength to hold everything back. But in BJ’s preoccupation, he would always know less about Carrie than she did him. “A woman’s only mysterious because men think too much of themselves to be interested in what she’s been saying the entire time,” was something Carrie told him that night, hilariously enough. “You may be listening to me right now BJ, but you’re no exception.”

“Earth to Beej,” Hawkeye impatiently says, “Your best friend is wondering when you’ll be beaming back to Earth to continue telling me about your little war time liaison.” BJ snaps out of it and, thinking back to what he was trying to do before, tries instead to coax out some kind of a willowy sexpot to make fake love to, with lips pink and kissable, her nose unique and long, his hair black and swooped out of his forehead—

“Sorry,” BJ apologizes and it comes out much more choked than he wish it did, but Hawkeye luckily pays it no mind. “I was just thinking about it. The way she moved with me...” As he says that Hawkeye lays back down with his hands folded on his stomach, his eyes slipping closed as he immerses himself in BJ’s words. BJ is suddenly trained on Hawkeye’s every movement, Hawkeye’s face of content pleasure. His mouth goes dry. “After I helped her out of her funk, she had this insatiable look in her face, practically begging me to make her feel good,”

“Of course I couldn’t just leave her without giving her some... comfort,” BJ continues, watching the rise of Hawkeye’s stomach with each pleased breath. He starts thinking about going over there right now and straddling him. “So I pushed her down onto her bed and kissed her.”

“You rambunctious devil.” Hawkeye mumbles, twiddles his fingers, and doesn’t feel anything wrong as he un-crosses his legs and parts them slightly for comfort. BJ, seeing this, definitely feels like this is wrong on many, many levels. “Keep going, keep going, unless you know — twas only a kiss?”

For things to come together like this, BJ thinks he’d rather be lined up to be executed by firing squad than be here. “Twas a kiss and so much more,” BJ says, a nerve ready to go off inside him in the case where Hawkeye at any moment, could look at BJ looking at him and see all the lies propping up behind him like looming towers. “She looked up at me with those big blue eyes of hers—” And then BJ sees that Hawkeye is looking at him with his blue eyes and he nearly breaks, “... and said ‘Take me BJ,’ and I started to unbutton her fatigues for her, starting with her jacket and then her pants, and then her shirt and underwear...” Hawkeye looks back away and BJ almost sighs in relief. Hawkeye sighs instead.

“How beautiful was her body,” Hawkeye asks, tilting back his head and exposing his throat — to which BJ stares at with the shame of a schoolboy at his attractive teacher — as he starts to feel his cock harden at the thought of Carrie naked. “For the army to force us all to wear green, that’s one strike, but lucky us, the way these fatigues mold to the female form...” Male form too, BJ thinks disconcertedly, as he notices Hawkeye’s crotch is a little tight.

“She’s... slim,” There wasn’t a woman in his thoughts anymore; BJ thinks about clasping his hands on Hawk’s hips and spreading his fingers as he moves his hands all over his abdomen. He thinks about counting his ribs with his fingers and then kissing where his hands leave until Hawkeye’s sighing for something more, until he’s complaining that BJ’s like electric, that he’s gonna be numb at one point from all the kisses lighting up his nerves. “You could hold her by the waist and it feels like they were made for you to hold them, and her breasts — they barely filled my palms.”

BJ began to think of all the times he’s peeked at Hawkeye when he wasn’t looking, and used those vignettes of Hawkeye at his most natural to dictate his fantasy. He couldn’t count the times he’s sneaked looks of Hawkeye in the shower in particular, and he’s had to stop himself time and time again from doing Gd knows what — just something that would make Hawkeye tremble in his arms and fall to his knees. Hawkeye in the meanwhile, exhales and feels no shame in rubbing at his full fledged erection through his pants, not knowing that BJ was watching with his own lust in his gaze.

“Beej,” Hawkeye groans, and plays with the idea of unzipping and relieving himself right in front of his friend. What are friends for if he couldn’t jerk off in front of them without preamble. “If I had a nurse like that, I wouldn’t mind putting myself on the ball and chain.”

“Yeah,” BJ mumbles cloudily and his cock hurts; but unlike Hawkeye, he has the decency to cover himself with his pillow.  _ Yes, I know, and I’m still afraid. Of what? Of you. Because you’re right here and you’re so attractive and so close. _

_ And so _

“So there she was, lying down all pretty for me—” It’s filthy thinking about how he looks at the way Hawkeye is lying and all he sees is him with his legs parted, it’s his flushed body BJ is fictitiously thrusting into, “—and I couldn’t resist anymore, so I stroked myself up and spread her thighs so I could penetrate her as slowly as I could and... Oh Hawk, if you could hear her moans...”

As if on cue, Hawkeye grins in agreement and moans through his bitten lip. He can’t stand it — and the sound of his zipper as he pulls it down is the only prevailing sound in the Swamp. Thankfully Frank is out trying to peddle for a shred of pity from Margaret, and possibly even has night time Post Op duty, which explains why there was yet to hear from anywhere the sounds of Margaret threatening to break his limbs. Hawkeye only unzips it to relieve the pressure though, and goes back to parting his legs just a little bit more for the exact same reason. Hawkeye doesn’t know who he’s projecting onto in this fantasy anymore.

“If backs could arch any higher,” Unbeknownst to Hawkeye, BJ’s given up on common decency and has his hand around his cock from underneath his pillow (which he’ll have to clean vigorously later) and is trying to use his precum for lubricant to ease the roughness of his strokes. “If a throat’s ever looked so tempting to mark up. I’m sure you would know just how amazing it feels when someone is pressing up against you and all they want is you — when all you want, all you need, is for someone to want you like that because you’ve wanted them back that long—”

“Hold on Beej,” Hawkeye interrupts, and BJ was quick enough to pretend he wasn’t close to coming then, as he turns to face BJ. “How long have you been wanting to fuck Donovan?”

“Only since the moment I exchanged words with her,” BJ responds, remarkably quick. He’s staring at the tent ceiling and stroking himself slower than before. “Which in war time, is a long time.” he exhales.

Hawkeye muses on this for a second before making a sound of agreement, and then he feels the wetness of pre soil his only clean boxers at the moment and hisses. “Right right right right okay keep going I’m begging you — I’m at the edge of my seat!”

“Right,” BJ says. “So you’ve got...” it takes a moment before BJ remembers who this fantasy involved in the first place. “You’ve got Carrie arching into me and I’m... I’m kissing her collarbone, and I move down until I’m kissing her breasts, all while I’ve been going in and out of her, with each thrust her lips part and eke out the most beautiful moan.”

“At one point, she clutches onto me with her gangly limbs, and—”

“I don’t remember Donovan being that thin—”

“The uh— her jacket hides it. So anyway, she grabs me, and pants in my ear that she’s about to come,” BJ thinks about being in Hawkeye’s arms and twists the head of his cock and bites back a heavy groan. Hawkeye has been lying in the same position, having not done much else but feel his heart thump like mad and his breathing catch in his throat at times, and his body aching for release — which BJ could tell he needs it by the way his eyes squeeze and his brows furrow. A drop of sweat lays tellingly on Hawk’s forehead.

“And that’s when I envelop her with my body and start thrusting faster and harder, her moans starting to become breathy, high pitched gasps and, fuck,” BJ can’t stop the gasp that erupts from him as his pace increases and Hawkeye finally notices, his lidded eyes and smirk not proving to communicate much else other than understanding in the most devastating way.

“Thinking about Donovan has you that hot again huh?” he murmurs, looking at the way the pillow over BJ’s cock twitches and moves to his strokes. “Don’t let me stop you — although it seems you’ve been doing this for a while,” Hawkeye’s eyes flit towards BJ’s and they’re needy, completely at the submission of his misinterpreted fantasy. And BJ couldn’t watch Hawkeye for another second before he tears himself away to stare at the ceiling again. The squiggles of heat at the base of his erection are killing him — and he doesn’t pretend he’s not panting anymore, he’s so close he could taste it.

This convinced Hawkeye enough to finally pull out his own aching erection. “I was planning to do this by myself in the showers because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but, Gd, Beej, what happens next,” he moans and he’s lucky enough to have lube on his side, the slick sounds of his hand moving up and down, mingling with their panting and their cots creaking.

Hawkeye whimpers as one stroke sends sparks down his spine and causes him to arch his back and BJ feels fucking dizzy — the image of Hawkeye pressing against him, begging him for release, becomes too vivid for him and he would cross the couple of feet between their cots right now to have him pleading for mercy, if only he didn’t have to finish his elaborate lie.

“... We’re both really close,” BJ pants, and Hawkeye starts to taste blood and stops biting his lip in favour of moaning openly. He slips a hand under his shirt and pinches his nipple. “So I pinch her nipple and suck on the other—” Hawkeye twists on his cot, “—and I thrust faster and faster until we both practically freeze and come together,”

“Beej tell me, did you play with her clit?” Hawkeye moans and thumbs the top of his cock until his body is so enveloped with the heat he almost tears up and lets off only to make sure there isn’t too much blood rushing to his ears to hear what BJ has to say, preoccupied as he is with the involuntary twitching of his body as his orgasm comes close.

“Of course I was,” BJ breathes, him and Hawkeye exchanging a mutual look. “While I was fucking her, I was rubbing it in little circles, and pressing at it and getting harder every time she clenched around me in response. She loved it when I rubbed around the hood in particular.”

“Jesus Christ, Beej,”

“Are you close?”

“Yeah, yeah I am Beej, oh fuck, I could come right now, BJ please,”

“Well it took one more stroke of her clit and one more hard thrust,” BJ ground his hips against his hand and watched as Hawkeye did the same. “and we both came together, our bodies twitching and grinding against each other as if we could keep going forever, and then—”

“Beej,” Hawkeye throws himself deep into his cot and finally comes, BJ’s name dying on his lips in a long strangled gasp. It was enough to set off BJ and the heat becomes lava right from the tip of his head to his toes. It takes a couple minutes afterwards of heavy breathing and aftershocks to finish reverberating through both their bodies before Hawkeye shakily sits up. “Fuck,” he says eloquently.

“Fuck is right,” BJ says right back. He’s still a little light on breath but he slips himself gingerly back into his pants and moves to grab his footlocker, wanting to grab his shower supplies but finding himself too boneless to move. Hawkeye is able to himself and he stands up and walks to the door.

“Sure you don’t want to shower?” asks Hawkeye.

“Nah, I’m fine,” BJ flips his pillow on the untainted side and flops it down under his head, ignoring how vile that is. “I’m incapacitated for the night.”

“All the more hot water for me,” Hawkeye grins and slings his towel over his shoulder. “Well, thanks for that, I haven’t been able to score lately — your words are my salvation army.” BJ chuckles, sort of bitterly to that. “You know, I think it would be pretty mutually beneficial if we did this in the future, if you’re interested in that?”

BJ feigns passing out at that moment, and Hawkeye waits a minute or two before he shrugs and leaves. When the door closes, BJ’s eyes open again and he realizes he’s crying a little bit.

He’s become my next Donovan, BJ thinks, the guilt pangs in his stomach making its unhappy welcome again; or maybe he’s always been my Donovan. Nevertheless, BJ keeps to himself and fights off the temptation to write to Peg.

He falls asleep uneasily and dreams about sleeping next to Hawkeye and kissing his forehead in the morning to wake him up, making him breakfast in the morning and combing his hair while he brushes his teeth. He dreams about Hawkeye transferring out of the 4077th following an unfateful kiss between them. He dreams about ravishing Hawkeye by candlelight and having him as his bride to live with him up in his castle on the mountain for eternity. He wakes up ready to start another cruel day.


End file.
